


The Price of Forever

by kitty_boi



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Architecture porn, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bathtubs, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Genetically Engineered Beings, Impact Play, LOTS of orgasm denial, M/M, Master/Slave, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nonbinary Character, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Porn With Plot, Rope Bondage, Sexual Slavery, Slave!Jack, Technically alien!Pitch, nonbinary!Jack, politician!Pitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_boi/pseuds/kitty_boi
Summary: The Wishing Kind are a race of genetically modified human beings sold for the sheer pleasure of their masters and owners. They do not have feelings, wants, or wishes outside of what their master wishes of them, and that is what makes them the perfect servant.Or so that's what the company wants you to think.Terrified Unit 637 is shuttled in a darkened van to meet his new owner, Councilman Pitch Black. He knows nothing of his new Master, only that he must obey and make his Master happy, or be marked defective.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Comments: 22
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

We were created to serve. From our genetics to our behavior, we only had one purpose. To serve.  
  


Still as the car trundled along, bringing me to meet my new master, I couldn’t stop the bile from rising in my throat at the prospect. No amount of training could prepare me for the inevitability of my existence. Eyes closed underneath the black canvas hood over my head, my mind raced as I wondered what type of man my new master was.  
  


_Pitch Black.  
  
_

I had gotten his name and that was it. It was dark, and only added to the nightmares flooding my head. The Kind rarely heard much about the outside world, but some of the units that had returned to the facility whispered terrors about masters who would beat them, starve them, cage them, with appetites that were unable to quench.  
  


But there was no way out for us. We were born to this, and we were expected to uphold the promises of our suppliers.  
  


_Or else.  
  
_

So as the car slowed to a stop and the door opened I straightened my spine, letting myself get manhandled outside. I would do my best. I would play along, in hopes that I could find the chance to escape when my master’s back was turned. If I pretended to give in, maybe I could get out.  
  


Head down like I was taught, I felt gravel and then marble underneath my bare feet, the world silent save for the boots of the men on either side of me. Anticipation flooded my senses as I was brought to my knees.  
  


“Keep your eyes closed.” A voice growled at me, and I bit back a retort about how the transaction had been explained to me in detail from start to finish.  
  


The bag was removed from my face and my heart thrummed as I listened for any clue of what was going on. The sound of a door closing from somewhere to my right sent a shiver down my spine, but I stayed stationary, my hands in my lap as I waited.  
  


“Concilmember Black. A pleasure sir.” The handler to my left said.  
  


“It would be a pleasure, if you weren’t an hour late with my order.” My Master’s voice was cool and biting, irritation tingeing each syllable. “I do hope that your product holds more merit than your service.”  
  


The handler stumbled over his words, clearly uneasy as he tried to save his hide. “I do apologize for that. We had an unexpected delay. However, Mr. Osheen was sure to give you the best we had on the market. This batch of our Wishing Kind are the highest quality I assure you. The imprinting technology really took a leap, and even from the start their image will last for three hours at least. And we’ve cut down drastically on the cracking in their voice as they process difficult octave changes.”  
  


“And if I have any unforeseen problems?”  
  


“All of our products have a lifetime warranty, and if you are unsatisfied we will be happy to work with you to find a more suitable replacement.” Flinching involuntarily at the comment, I focused on my breathing, keeping it even and calculated, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention to me until it was my turn. “Now sir, if you would like to sign the paperwork, then we can take our leave.”  
  


“Of course.” A quick scribble on paper, and I was officially sold. It was that simple.  
  


“Alright. Contact us if you have any questions. Have a good day.”  
  


The boots retreated, by my focus wasn’t on them. A soft wind wafted over my skin as my master started to circle me, taking in his new purchase. His footsteps were soft, almost inaudible, and it made the back of my neck prickle.  
  


“Unit 637.” His voice purred.  
  


“Yes Master.” I replied, the new tone rolling in my mouth as I articulated each word carefully. It was male, deeper but still smooth with bright tones in some of the vowels, like a child who had gotten older but never noticed they should have grown up.  
  


“You will now be referred to as Jack and nothing else.” A finger trailed up the unit tattoo on the back of my neck, and I shivered as the change took over. Bones shifted slightly under my skin, thinning and lengthening as muscle toned instantly over them. My jaw popped as I felt my cheekbones move higher, and the itch of hair sprouting on my scalp made my toes curl in an attempt to stay still.  
  


A hand curled into my hair, pulling as an indication to stand swiftly. Legs unstable I quickly complied, backing up involuntarily into a broad, strong chest. “Jack.” The name was uttered close to my ear, as fingers made their way down from my scalp to the side of my face, prompting me to turn to face the voice.  
  


“Yes Master.” I uttered hesitantly, the words almost unable to make it past the lump in my throat, my body still tingling from the change, and growing tension.  
  


“Look at me.”  
  


Long eyelashes fluttered against my skin as my eyes acclimated to the light in the room. Tilting my head a little further, I caught the gaze of my master and couldn’t hold back the gasp that came.  
  


Pitch was Umbran; the dark, almost black skin making his yellow eyes intense as they looked at me hungrily. His face was pointed and his teeth gleamed as a smile widened across his face. We had learned about Umbrans in our history classes, listened to accounts about how they terrorized enemy troops in the Second Age with their ability to manipulate shadows. While the classes were meant to be unbiased, there was always an undertone of fear when the Umbrans were mentioned.  
  


And now one of them was looking down at me, taking me apart with his eyes.  
  


“They certainly did a good job with you.” He murmured, his hands gliding over my torso. I leaned into him, my head rolling back and my eyes locking on the ceiling as my training took over. “You are beautifully responsive, absolutely perfect. But—“ His fingers tweaked a nipple through the fabric of my shirt and I gasped audibly. “—Do you want me?”  
  


That question was the first thing we had been taught to handle. It was the last piece in the puzzle to complete the fantasy our masters wanted. If they doubted our resolve even for a moment we were returned, marked as defective. Our feelings didn’t matter, and if they weren’t a necessity in authenticity, they would’ve been bred out of us ages ago.  
  


Hoping my hand was steady I reached up for my Master’s face and pulled him down into a kiss, blatantly ignoring the general rule to not touch anyone unless ordered to. I wasn’t going to be labeled defective. Pulling back after a moment, my eyes locked on the space between his nose, unable to make full eye contact. “I do, Master.”  
  


A grin spread across his face as he captured my lips again, forcing me to turn so he could kiss me more fully. Sharp teeth nipped at my lip until I opened my mouth, letting him take over so I could just react, taking my mind away from what was actually going on. Balling my hands into his shirt, I steadied myself as his hands roamed down his body, leaving whispers of touches in their wake.  
  


Suddenly he grabbed my legs, hoisting them up around his waist. My arms circled around him, afraid of falling, as he attacked my neck and bit down until I whined. Laying me down on the stairs he pushed my shirt up, mapping every inch of my torso with his fingers as he leaned down to suck marks into my pale flesh. A deep tingling erupted in my abdomen like a switch was flipped, and I groaned as I felt my body get turned on. It was another part of my design, my excitement based solely on the level of my Master’s. We had discussed in class, but the experience left me grabbing for him for real, wanting nothing more than to make the feeling go away.  
  


“Tell me how much you need me.” Pitch’s voice was breathless as he pulled away from my grasp.  
  


“Master please, I-I can’t take this!” The feeling made me feel frantic, so intense and new that I would’ve said anything to make him come back and finish the job. “Please, I need it. I need you!”  
  


An odd, satisfied look crossed Pitch’s face, but he didn’t move, holding above me. “Isn’t it true that you can’t feel release until I do?” I nodded quickly, holding back more pleas. “Well, isn’t that something.”  
  


And with that he got up, straightening his suit jacket as he headed up the stairs. It wasn’t until he snapped and pointed that I knew to move, my mind still reeling about what happened. Scrambling up I rushed to his side, my head bowed low as I stayed a step behind him.  
  


“I would give you a tour, but you will not be allowed to leave my room on your own.” He said, his voice just as cool and impassive as when he was dealing with my handlers. Still, I knew he must have still been hard, because my newly formed erection jutted out awkwardly even as I tried to focus on his words. “You will accompany me on certain occasions to council visits or parties, but other than that you will stay in my room and wait for me. Do you understand?”  
  


“Yes sir.” I breathed, my voice strained.

  
  
“Good. You are free to use anything you need in my rooms while I am gone, and food will be brought to you three times a day. I expect you to eat what is given and bathe regularly. The other servants will not speak to you, nor should you speak to them, though they will be in to clean throughout the week. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.” I repeated.  
  


“Perfect.” He purred.

  
We made our way through the grand hallways of his house. I was used to the cramped classrooms and barracks of the warehouse, so to see such towering walls was almost... Deafening. As if I needed any more reason to feel small and insignificant in Pitch's presence.  
  


The theme as I quickly caught on was dark. Dark wood, dark wallpaper, dark marble, with hints of gold that caught the light as you passed them. In my limited knowledge it all looked expensive too. Beautiful canvases hung from the walls, and statues lay in alcoves carved out specially for them as we walked. I knew that the Masters who bought us were wealthy, but to see it, and to know that the price he paid for me was the same-- if not more-- than the beautiful golden vase we passed. It sent a shiver down my spine.  
  


Up another flight of stairs and Pitch stopped at a deep velvet door, with guards posted on either side. I wouldn't have even noticed it if I hadn't been looking, it blended in with the dark atmosphere almost like a void. I wondered if he always had guards posted at his door, or if it was as a precaution because of me...  
  


The door was opened and I was led into what was possibly the most ornate set of rooms in existence. To the right, through a slightly open door, I glimpsed what looked like a study. Thick books filled shelves that lined the room ceiling to floor, and I could just barely make out a dark mahogany desk and plush black leather chairs in the midst. Flickering light against the wood's surface made me wonder if a fireplace sat against the wall I couldn't see.  
  


In the center of the room, flanked by two dark panels of wood sat what I assumed would be my new home. A golden framed four poster bed with satin black sheets sat, almost as if on a pedestal in the dimly lit space. It felt like a stage, and flickers of myself in lewd positions flashed in my mind, the purr of Pitch's voice commanding me to bend over and take it...  
  


Focusing to the room on the left, I was almost taken aback. Through a clear door, inlaid with a swirling frosted design was an extravagant bathroom. Light filtered down on a huge gold rimmed tub, set into the black marble floor, with palm like plants sprouting from the floor on either side. The tub was full and shimmering patterns danced across the dark tile of the walls and back to a clear glass shower big enough to fit at least five people inside of it. The whole room felt ethereal and otherworldly, nothing like the rest of the house, and I almost couldn't pull my eyes away.  
  


“Fascinating.” Pitch murmured, and I almost started at his voice, forgetting he was so close to me. “Your reactions are honestly so genuine. I have to give credit to that detail work in your design.”  
  


_Right._ Taking an inward sigh, I turned to him a small, coy smile on my face. “Is that the only thing you appreciate about my design, Master?”  
  


Feeling myself peak up, I knew it was the right thing to say. “They really did make you perfect.” A hand curled into my shirt collar, pulling me close. I braced myself, waiting for him to fling me to the bed, or throw me against the wall...  
  


“I think we need a bath.” And like that he was gone, sweeping off as the glass doors opened by themselves to let him into the other area. Confused, I followed him, still unsure what to expect of this new master of mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: Because of the nature of the Kind, Jack doesn't ascribe any gendered terms to his genitalia. Because he's spent most of his life up to this point without any, they're just kinda... There.

I followed after Pitch, feeling the warm, dense air hit my face as I crossed from plush carpet to cool marble. I stood before him, unsure again, as I looked down at the faint white streak in the floor by my big toe.  
  


“Anytime I take a bath, or a shower you will accompany me. You will undress me, wash me, and dress me in my robe, understand?”  
  


“Yes Master” I said, still unable to look Pitch directly in the eyes unless ordered. There was something about him that was unsettling, something I couldn't quite place.

  
“For now though... Strip.” He said, his voice cool.  
  


Slowly, my hands found their way to the hem of my shirt, pulling it up my torso, in what I hoped would be a teasing manner. I used the second my face was hidden by fabric to steel myself, then I let the shirt drop to the floor, and flicked my eyes up him through my eyelashes, before toying a bit with the laces that held my trousers up, my hips gyrating slightly.  
  


A glint passed through Pitch's eye, and I knew I had made the right move. Still his voice was even as he ordered again. “Strip.”  
  


“Yes, Master.” I obliged, pulling at the laces and letting the pants loosen around my hips. With a slight shove, I let them join my shirt, the warehouse never bothering to give us underwear.  
  


The look on Pitch's face grew almost devilish as he strode towards me, pulling me into a tight kiss. I let myself melt into his embrace, my arms looping up to wrap around his neck as I let him control the kiss. It was hungry, possessive, but while his grip was firm, it was not painful.  
  


I was grateful for this and would be grateful for as long as it lasted, so I carded my hands through his black hair, nipping softly at his lips, as I smiled mischievously. He seemed to like it, as I could feel both our erections grow at the closeness  
  


But not soon after he stepped away, leaving me lost, confused, and a little wanting.  
  


“Well, what are you waiting for?” He said, his tone languid and smooth, as he gestured to himself.  
  


Stepping forward, I murmured. “Yes Master.”  
  


Unbuttoning his suit jacket, I slid it from his strong shoulders before laying it neatly on the floor. I loosened his tie, pulling him a fraction closer to my naked body as I did. Steadily my hand made it to the collar of his shirt, making quick work of the buttons down to reveal cool grey skin underneath, then ran my hands up his broad chest to remove his shirt. Reaching his pant line, I undid the button and zipper, letting the fabric pool at his feet. I snuck a small peek through my periphery at his face, but his expression was more calculating than anything. Lastly I hooked my fingers into the band of his black boxers and pushed them down, eyes working to stray away from his genitals, still feeling excited from our previous kiss.  
  


My head was lowered but I could feel him staring at me, staring at the perfect body made just for him, the body that chemically craved his touch and his touch alone. I knew he was taking in my erection, and the way my being almost begged him to satisfy it. And yet...  
  


“How do you feel?”  
  


“I... I want you, Master.” I said, breath hitching as I tried to look as pleasing as possible. “I want your--”  
  


“No” He sharply cut me off. “You. How are you feeling? Right now. Explain it.”  
  


Licking my lips, my brain raced, trying to think of what to say. “I feel hot... H-hot and electrified at the same time. Like any touch could set me off. I feel like I need something and it won't go away until I give into it. I feel every inch of my skin, and it's tingling and buzzing and I want it to go away but I also want to sink into it... I...”  
  


“Good, good.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “And this is your first erection, correct?”  
  


“Besides downstairs earlier, Master.”  
  


“Perfect. Get into the tub.”  
  


My breath felt heavy as I sunk into the water, him following on the stone steps not too far behind. It felt cool, nice against the feeling I was describing not two seconds before. But then he was there, at my back, pulling me against him.  
  


“Normally, you would bathe me first and take your own bath when I am not in the room, but this time I'm going to bathe you. Rid you of every last trace of wherever you've been before here. Because you are mine. Right Jack?”  
  


“I am yours, Master.” I repeated, semi shakily as his erection bumped against my spine.  
  


“Good boy.” He said nipping slightly at the skin of my collar as I gasped out of shock.  
  


Reaching behind him, I heard him pumping something into his hand, before burying them into my scalp. Massaging them through thoroughly, the feeling had me starting to relax against him, as the water swayed around us. I let myself be moved by him as he tilted back my head to rinse my hair, before washing down my torso and arms. I was almost lulled into a state of sleep when--  
  


As if out of nowhere, a hand wrapped around my genitals and started to pump them. My eyes flew open, and I shot a hand to my mouth to cover the yelp that nearly squeaked past my lips. A low grumble of laughter reverberated behind me as the strokes continued and my shock turned into something else as I now had to hold back a moan, my body pushing against the hand touching me.  
  


“Needy aren't we?” Pitch said, and I nodded. “You've never been touched like this before?” I shook my head. “No one took you to the side and gave you some 'hands on' experience before you came to me.”  
  


“N-no sir.” I replied. The syllables sounded strange and foreign to me as the pleasure built in my body. “W-we come completely 'intact' f-for our Masters unless otherwise stated. I promise Master, please!”  
  


And then the hand was gone. My breath heaving, I barely heard his “Good”, nor did I feel him continue to wash my legs and feet.  
  


Sliding out from behind me, I felt him settle to the other side of the bath, regarding me. “So you can build pleasure without me building my own then.”  
  


I sat up, knees curling underneath me, eyes down. “Yes Master, though as I believe I stated before, I cannot climax without you or your command.”  
  


“Can you build pleasure from your own hand?”  
  


“I...I don't know Master. I've never tried.”  
  


“Interesting.” He sat there for a moment, thinking, before sinking back. “It's your turn to bathe me. Supplies are in the labeled pumps on the edges of the bath.”  
  


Yes Master.” Floating over to the pumps on his end, I located the shampoo, filled my hand, before turning to him. As I lathered up his black hair, I used this moment to really look at him. Pitch was definitely not an ugly master, by any means, though he had pointed features that gave him an... Intimidating face. A long nose and pointed chin coupled with the contrast to his eyes and hair would make anyone shudder, plus Umbrans were naturally tall. And according to our classes their tech was impressive as well...  
  


Shampoo turned to conditioner, and then to soap. Finding some washcloths neatly nestled in a basket by one of the plants, I lathered up and then took to work sudsing up my masters arms and torso. As I went, I noticed a curious scar in his abdomen, only about two inches long. My fingers trailed it briefly, but I couldn't ponder on it too long without raising suspicion.  
  


I went back for some more soap, and then paused. It was only his legs and groin left, and I couldn't tell from the relaxed look on his face what he would want me to do. My own erection had since become soft, but he had yet to... Claim me for his own. Would he wait to go to bed for that or would he want a treat here and now?

  
“Have I broken your circuitry?” A singular golden eye peered at me, as Pitch's head turned towards where I was floating. Yet, I could see a glimpse of a smile grace his pointed face. “Are you trying to calculate the positives and negatives of giving me a hand job as you clean my nether region?”  
  


Stunned I sputtered a few incoherent syllables, fear spiking in my brain, but he only chuckled and pulled me onto his lap. Grey hands rested on my pale thighs, as he bit my ear lightly. “Well, we'll have to see if you can figure it out then, won't we?”  
  


“Yes, Master.” Awkwardly, I gathered my washcloth again, and resumed washing his legs. Slowly I made my way up, feet, calves, thighs, and then, prompting myself to not hesitate, I draped my clothed hand over his member and began to rub lightly.

  
An almost victorious grin came across his face, as he leaned back again, allowing me to continue my ministrations. His breaths deepened, not desperate and shallow like mine had been, but almost meditative as I felt him grow hard in my hand. I kept my strokes even, varying the pressure as I gauged Pitch's responses.  
  


Every heavier stroke I felt almost a millimeter more of interest so I wrapped my hand more fully around his cock, pulling and tugging as I floated towards him. My thumb played with his head and he sighed, head rolling back. I smirked, glad for some sort of win in what felt like a gambit of losses with this man.  
  


Glancing over to look at me again, I saw the silvery gold of his eyes half focused on my form. “Jack...” He said, his voice deep and throaty.  
  


“Yes Master.” I replied.  
  


The haze in his eyes cleared, and he sat up ever so slightly, removing my palm from his erection. “That is all for now.” Lifting himself from the bath, he stretched slowly rolling the muscles in his back. “Go fetch me a towel. They're in a cupboard to the right.”  
  


Quickly, feeling as if my win had been snatched a way, I rushed from the water to follow his orders. The dark wicker cupboard was full of plush black bathrobes and towels. Grabbing one and being mindful of not disturbing the fold, I returned to him, holding it out, my head bowed slightly.  
  


“Good.” He said taking it from me and using it to dry his hair. “Dry yourself, and meet me in the bedroom. Be quick about it.”


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't allow myself to think too much as I toweled myself off, knowing what was going to happen next. If I dwelled on it, I would just hype myself up, and Cosmos knows I didn't need that.  
  


Dropping the towel to the floor, I steeled myself. Pitch liked when I seemed sure of myself. Sexy and sultry, not some weak, mindless thing he could push around. In a way it was nice to have room to show some emotion, to tease and play even if he always won.

  
I could do this.  
  


Taking a breath, I allowed a slight sway to my hips as I exited the room. The doors closed behind me in an almost inaudible hiss as my eyes found Pitch. He was facing away from me, busy with something. The wooden panels on either side of the bed had been pulled back to reveal an array of crops, paddles, rope, and other paraphernalia, all meticulously hung or stored on shallow shelves in the space.  
  


 _He's a Dom._ It all made sense now, the teasing, the need for control. The warehouse had taught us all about different sexual proclivities; and I took an involuntary step back as terms and old videos swirled in my head, all confidence gone. My eyes were trained on the paddles, thinking of the horror stories of Kind being beaten black and blue, of Masters who had appetites way past those of any free being's capabilities...  
  


“Ah Jack, you're here.” Pitch's voice cut through my thoughts. His voice was excited almost, ready for the main event, whatever that was. “I see you're eyeing my toy closet.”

  
“Y-yes master. It is quite expansive.” I replied, trying to get control of my tone.  
  


He turned to me and smiled, dropping a length of rope on the bed. “Well, when you've lived as long as I have, you learn to enjoy many things.”  
  


I huffed out a small laugh, the conversation helping to calm my thrumming heart. “I never thought of you as old, Master.” To be honest, his age hadn't even crossed my mind. It was an insignificant detail, something that didn't give me any insight into who he was.  
  


“Ever the charmer.” He said, though his smile softened to look almost wistful. “You were taught about kink, yes?”  
  


“I was Master.” I replied.  
  


“Good, good.” Pitch's eyes were on the closet again, and I could tell he was thinking. “Hmmm... Maybe... Yes.”  
  


Reaching under his bed, he pulled out two foam shapes and set them on the bed. The curve of them was perfect for a human body, and at the sight of them I knew he wanted me to face him during...  
  


I didn't know whether that was comforting or not.  
  


“Come here Jack.” For the first time, Pitch's voice sounded like a command as he stood, full height next to the bed.

  
And for the first time, I knew not to respond. Silently I approached him, my breathing shallow.  
  


“Wrists out.” Presenting them to my Master, I watched as he picked up a short length of rope from the bed. Uncoiling it quickly, the end thumped against the carpet before he started passing it over my wrists. “You will tell me if your hands start tingling or go numb, understand?”  
  


“Yes Master.” I breathed.  
  


The rope passed around both my wrists twice, before Pitch fed the one end between my arms and tied them off securely. My chest tightened as soon as the knot was solidified around my wrists. This was real, and the bite of the rope against my skin was that reminder.  
  


Leaving the rest of the rope hanging off of my wrists, he turned to his closet again. “Get on the bed and lay yourself on the liberator ramp.” He said.  
  


“Yes Master.”

  
Awkwardly hoisting myself up onto the too tall bed, I laid back against the foam ramp and stared at the ceiling, waiting. Time felt drawn out, agonizingly slow, as I tried not to look to see what Pitch was doing, feeling as if he wouldn't like that. All it left me with was a sense of anticipation, not knowing what was going to happen, or what he was planning.  
  


Feeling a weight at the edge of the bed, I glanced down to see Pitch there, his silver-gold eyes taking me in. After a moment, he grabbed the rope dangling from my wrists and pulled my arms up and back, affixing them to something behind me. A jingle was heard to my right, and then I felt something clasp around my neck. _A collar.  
_

Nothing was said about it, but then Pitch was kissing me, long and slow, his hand buried in my hair. Shifting slightly, and feeling the resistance of the rope against my arms, I kissed him back, feeling myself get peaked as he did. For some reason _this_ was what he needed. Not the kiss in the stairs, or the fooling around in the bath. This, right now.  
  


His free hand travelled slowly down my side, mapping each divot and curve in my body with his long fingers, then back up again. Tweaking a nipple, he had me gasping, using this to slide his tongue expertly into my mouth. I let him, releasing any control as he grabbed my collar to pull me as close as my binding would allow.  
  


A hand was on my thigh, slotting my legs between his. I moaned into his mouth as his body was pressed against my now fully erect member. Nipping down my throat to my collar, I could feel him leave what would be a deep purple mark right at the juncture of my shoulder, just below the collar, as nails dug into my thighs.  
  


“Master, please.” I gasped, all thought and preparation gone from my mind as sensations overwhelmed me. “It's too much!”  
  


“Is it?” He asked, before sucking another mark into my skin. “But you don't get to make that decision, Jack”  
  


Groaning as I bucked up into his body, I pulled against my restraints, the rope biting into my skin. “Please Master, I need more!”  
  


“First it's too much, now you need more.” Pitch tutted, though he kissed my jawline almost sweetly. “Maybe if you specify, I will actually know what you need.”  
  


“Fuuuuuck.” I swore, and I could hear him chuckle, his fingers playing with my nipple almost idly as he waited. “Master I need—I need...”  
  


I tried to grind up into him, to show him what I wanted, but his hands quickly found my hips, holding them still with a bruising touch. “Now, now.” He said, almost mockingly. “Use your words.”  
  


Holding back the litany of names I wanted to call my Master, I groaned again. “Please Master. I need you... Fuck! Ughhhh, I need you inside me!”  
  


“There we go.” He praised, giving me a kiss on the forehead. “Now tell me Jack.” He planted a kiss on my temple as I felt a hand exploring my backside. “Is it true you are always pre-lubed when excited?”  
  


A single digit probed my entrance before I could respond, and a guttural moan escaped my lips as I chased after the feeling.  
  


“It seems so.” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “So I could take you right now, and you would be ready for me without any preparation?” A second finger joined the first, though they stayed shallow, moving only enough to cause me to squirm against the rope, wanting more, needing more.  
  


“Master pleeease!” I begged, my erection throbbing, eyes catching his in a desperate plea. “I'll do anything, just please fuck me Master. Fuck me, and cum inside me, or on me or whatever you want, just please!”  
  


His grin widened, as the fingers withdrew. I whined, but it was short lived, as I felt him line himself up at my entrance. Leaning over me, he kissed me before murmuring in my ear. “You always know what to say, don't you?”  
  


And then, in one fluid motion, he thrust all the way into the hilt. Gasping, I was almost in shock at the feeling as he peppered more kisses and nips down the other side of my neck. It hadn't hurt, I was built for it not to hurt, but I could feel it filling me, taking up space I didn't know had existed until now.  
  


Capturing me in yet another kiss, he pulled out slowly, torturously, before trusting in again. I wanted to grab onto him, him starting a rhythm that took my breath away, and I pulled against the ropes whining and moaning, as the feeling overtook me. I was at my limit, kissing him back frantically, all pretense lost...  
  


And then he touched me...  
  


I almost screamed, my sensitivity at an all time high. His pleasure plus mine mixed together into an oversensitive mess, but I couldn't do anything but let it happen. Pleas bubbled from my mouth, half coherent as he pumped my member with expert hands. Each pass felt like the last one that would tip me over but it only kept on building and building, and I hated it and loved it at the same time, so lost in everything that was happening.  
  


“Should I let you come?” I could barely hear his words over my pleasure. Nodding vigorously I kissed and nipped at his lips, trying to convey my need. Trying to beg though nothing real would pass my lips.  
  


“You are quite convincing.” He replied, and I felt, through the haze of my mind, his hips starting to stutter, even if his voice was even. “Though I love to see you like this, wanton and needy. Unable to release even though you are utterly spent.”  
  


I whined as he ran a thumb over the tip of my member, tugging yet again at my restraints as I tried to pull him closer. Kissing me again, as if he read my mind, he pulled my torso up with my collar, my back arched almost painfully. But I didn't care as he whispered. “Come for me Jack.”  
  


My vision went white as my body finally released. It felt like an eternity, as waves of pleasure hit me and I cried out, voice hoarse, as ropes of cum splattered between us. My whole body throbbed, as everything but that feeling was stripped away and I was lost to it.  
  


Slowly the world came back, and I slumped against the ramp, vision hazy and body limp. Vaguely I felt as Pitch came as well, a warm feeling filling my insides as he groaned and kissed me once again. Pulling out, he was gone from my vision, and I closed my eyes, letting exhaustion hit me.  
  


He was back again, speaking words, but I could barely make them out. My arms came loose, and I felt as they flopped against my sides. And then he was holding me, my head leaning against his chest as the foam blocks were removed out from under me and replaced with a pillow.  
  


Lastly a cool towel passed over my stomach, bringing me slightly back to my senses. Blinking, I looked over at him. He was focused on cleaning me up, his hair slicked back and his expression soft. Words bubbled up in my throat, to thank him for caring, but they were lost on the way to my mouth and I closed my eyes again, this time lost for good to the nothingness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ughhhhhh, this chapter has been the death of me!!! I keep on editing and re-editing it because it's not what I want it to be so I'm taking it away from myself and posting it so I can move on to the chapter I want to work on.

Morning came in a haze of comfort and warmth. I didn't question it at first, content at feeling content. Slowly though it came to me how odd the plush world was. My world was stiff cots and thin blankets. It was cold and hard and impersonal. Never before had I woken up to a warm comforter tucked around me and a comfortable pillow under my head.  
  


What was more peculiar was the arm thrown over my torso, and the heat of another body nestled against mine. All at once the events of yesterday came streaming back, and I remembered. I had been sold. I was in my Master's bed, after he had bathed, tied me up, and taken me, and it was his nose that was buried in the back of my neck.  
  


Taking deep, deliberate breaths, I worked to keep myself calm. I knew this was always going to be my eventuality-- being sold, being claimed-- but the weight of _that_ reality, knowing that _this_ was the rest of my life... It made my heart pound, and without the need to put on a face for Pitch and act like everything was okay, I was finding it hard not to break down. I felt like my chest was drowning in air, and the world was closing in and getting darker, despite the sun streaming in from the skylights above me.  
  


Luckily for me, Pitch grumbled something incoherent, then rolled over in his sleep, allowing me to slip quietly from the bed. Getting up, I took as deep of a breath as I could, rolling my shoulders and cracking my toes on the exhale, still getting used to this new form-- what I was assuming was going to be my normal form from now on.  
  


Looking around, I noticed a small wooden door I hadn't seen yesterday, right next to the large bathroom we were in last night. Padding over to it, I quietly opened the door, and found a small half bath. It was just as elegant as the rest of the rooms, but built for efficiency rather than luxury. A black porcelain toilet sat nestled in the one end of the small space, facing a sink and mirror combo; the sink resting in a dark cherry cabinet. Two golden fountain lights hung over the mirror giving it an almost old world feel.  
  


Closing myself inside, I quickly relieved myself in the toilet, and then turned to the ornate black marble sink and, after washing my hands, splashed some water in my face. The cold droplets ran down my neck and torso, calming me, and I closed my eyes, willing my thoughts to settle.  
  


I couldn't allow myself to get overwhelmed. My job was to take was was given to me, and from what it seemed like last night, I got lucky with my Master, and I should be grateful for that. There was no reason to get hyped up over something I couldn't change, so I should just be glad that I'm not getting hurt, and work to keep it that way. Learn his preferences like they taught us, keep him happy, and hope that's enough to not let him descend into boredom with me.  
  


Slowly I opened my eyes, and looked in the mirror, seeing for the first time who my Master had turned me into. A shock of white, tousled hair fell over wide, bright blue eyes and pale, flawless skin with a tint of rosiness in my cheeks and nose. My face was smooth--apart from what looked like smile lines that had started to form at the corners of my eyes-- and younger, though I had a strong jawline. My body was thin and lanky, but toned and I had very long fingers and toes. The collar was still around my neck and I wondered briefly if it was going to be a permanent fixture.  
  


“Beautiful, aren't you?” A voice came from behind me, and I jumped.  
  


“Master, I'm sorry. I should have waited until you awoke.” I said, whirling around. Pitch was standing just out of sight of the mirror, pajama pants dangling from his pointed hips as he leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, eyes fixed on me. Quickly I turned my gaze to the floor, expecting a reprimand.  
  


A soft laugh huffed from his lips as a knuckle tipped my chin back up to look at him. “I would hope you would not think me so cruel to disallow you to use the bathroom when needed, Jack.”  
  


“N-no Master.” I said, breathily as the space between us closed. “But I still should have asked for the rules beforehand.”  
  


“Hmm...” He pondered, kissing me before continuing. “You are correct. I shall have to punish you for that later.”  
  


“Yes Master, I agree Master.” My heart thudded against my ribcage as he said that. Maybe I was too soon in thinking that he wouldn't beat me. Maybe he just needed the right trigger...  
  


A tinge of fear must've clouded my face because Pitch kissed me again. “Don't worry yourself too much about that.” His grin betrayed him though; he was looking forward to it. “We have to have breakfast first.”  
  


Pulling me back towards the bedroom, Pitch led me to a small glass table in the corner by the library. The surface was covered in a variety of breakfast foods that must have been brought in while I was out of the room; fruits and berries, various juices in glass carafes, pancakes, bacon, and much more. It was decadent and rich, and way more than what both of us could eat in one sitting. A high back dark cherry dining chair sat at either end of the table, and right next to one of them was a deep blue embroidered cushion on the floor.  
  


Dutifully, I hastened my stride, reaching the table before Pitch and pulling the chair from the table for him. I wasn't going to make two mistakes in one day. As he settled in I kneeled down on the cushion, the smell of all the food making my stomach grumble.  
  


“Thankfully for you, I have no patience for hand feeding.” Pitch said above me, and I glanced up at him, surprised. Through the glass, I watched as he fixed a small plate from the food on the table, then passed it and a fork down to me.  
  


“Thank you Master.” I said, My hunger pains growing as I looked at all the delicious things in front of me.  
  


A goblet of deep purple juice was passed down as well. “Get anything on the floor and not only will you clean it up with your mouth, but your punishment will be doubled.”  
  


“Yes, Master, I understand Master.”  
  


Waiting for the sound of his knife and fork to begin, I dug into my food with fervor as soon as I could, the flavor pulling a small groan of pleasure from my lips.  
  


I heard a small chuckle come from above me, as a hand went to my hair, petting me idly. “Don't choke, Jack.”  
  


“Sorry, Master.” I said, embarrassed. Returning to my food a little more cautiously I let myself savor the sweet syrup on the pancakes, and the saltiness of the bacon. None of these things I had tasted before, though I had read extensively about extravagant foods in the warehouse.  
  


I could definitely get used to this part of living here.  
  


We ate silently for a while, just the clinking of silverware filling the room. When I finished, I silently slid my plate and goblet back on the table. This earned me a brief pet of the head from Pitch, and I couldn't help but smile at the affirmation. Silently, I settled in and waited for my Master to finish.  
  


He took his time, his attention taken up by a panel to his left. I remembered what my handlers had said yesterday about Pitch being a Councilmember, and wondered if he was checking up on the state of everything as he ate. However the words were too far for me to make out, especially though the glass of the table, so I gave up, instead watching his reactions to whatever he was reading.

  
Whatever it was, it wasn't good. His brow was furrowed, and a couple times he mumbled curses to himself at what he saw in the sleek surface. Occasionally I saw him pull up what looked like a notes app and tap at the panel, before going back to reading, completely ignoring the food in front of him. The matter was very clearly important, and not going in his favor.  
  


After a while, he sighed and let the screen go clear. Pushing it back on the table, he didn't bother to wait for me to get his chair before standing. He ignored me as he swept over to his library, irritated, pushing the doors open and disappearing behind them.

  
Scrambling up, I followed him. Turning the corner into the library, I saw him at the desk, tapping furiously at another, bigger panel, almost the size of the surface he was sitting at. The fire I suspected to be there last night was throwing his face into a grim shadow, making his features more intense and fearsome than they normally were.  
  


I opened my mouth to ask him what I should do, then closed it again, not wanting to disturb him. Instead, I shut the door behind myself and rounded the desk. Settling on my knees next to his chair, I rested my head lightly against his leg, trying to be a comfort to whatever was bothering him.

  
There was no real response to my action as Pitch continued what he was doing, the matter clearly important. But he didn't push me away and order me out either. So I waited, allowing myself to relax into his side.  
  


It was a comfortable place to be, even if I was being ignored. Pitch's leg was warm against my cheek, and the tapping of his fingers against the panel was soothing, however irritated the contents of what he was typing may be. The fire in the room kept me at a nice temperature, even though I was still naked from the night before, and every so often Pitch would let his hand rest on my head, sometimes scratching at my scalp, and sometimes carding through my hair as he thought. I hoped that meant that I was helping in some respect.  
  


A little while later someone knocked at the door, and Pitch voiced a quick “Enter.” without looking up. I couldn't see past the wood of the desk, but my ears perked up and I heard the door opening.  
  


“Councilman Black, you didn't finish your breakfast so I was wondering if you wanted a light snack before the calls you have scheduled this afternoon.”  
  


I could hear Pitch's audible sigh from above me before he spoke. “Yes, thank you Ruth. That would be lovely.”  
  


A soft clink of glass on wood resonated above me, and the door closed again.  
  


Sighing Pitch leaned back, and ran a hand through his hair. Leaning forward, I heard him busy himself with what was placed on the desk, and then a plate was lowered down to me, along with a cup of light green liquid.  
  


“Thank you, Master.” I said.  
  


He hummed in recognition, already tucking into his food. I looked down at my own, finding a half-sandwich, and some cubes of fruit. Balancing the plate expertly on my thigh, I picked up my sandwich and bit into it.  
  


We ate in silence, Pitch still staring at the panel in front of him, his face twisted into a frown. Whatever was happening, it was really bothering him and I wondered what it could be. It was clearly important, whatever it was, for him to just get up and come in here...  
  


“Is it necessary for you to stare at me like that?” Pitch snapped at me, and I almost instantly lowered my gaze.  
  


“Sorry, Master.”  
  


Quickly I finished my lunch, sliding my plate up on the desk like I did before. Unlike before however, I did not get a pat on my head. I knew I had fucked up at that point, and it frightened me. Pitch was already in a bad mood, and I had made it worse. Within one day I had failed at my one purpose in life.  
  


As if on the same wavelength, Pitch sighed and pushed his chair back from the desk, rubbing his eyes. “You know Jack... I think it's time for your punishment.”


	5. Chapter 5

Leading me back into the bedroom, Pitch's face was unreadable. I followed him dutifully though every cell of my body wanted to run away. I didn't know what to expect from this punishment, and with how angry Pitch had seemed, I was afraid to find out.  
  


Placing me in front of the still open toy closet, Pitch's hands grasped my hips firmly, pulling me flush against his chest.  
  


“Tell me about the impact tools I have, Jack.”  
  


“I... uhm, there's a traditional soft leather flogger as well as a braided flogger, a couple different riding crops some with a clapper, a couple different sizes of leather paddles, as well as a wooden paddle.” I noted that there were no canes or whips, and breathed a small sigh of relief.  
  


“You're forgetting one.” Pitch replied.  
  


My eyes scanned the shelves again. “I'm sorry Master, I don't see it.”  
  


Right as I finished my sentence I felt him withdraw. And then... The sound registered before the pain as his palm connected with my bare ass. I yelped, swaying on my feet as I struggled to stay standing.  
  


Gasping, I blinked tears from my eyes. “I'm sorry Master, that was my mistake. I forgot about your hands.”  
  


“Hmmm...” A hand slipped into my hair pulling my head back. He gently kissed my exposed neck, nibbling slightly at the taught skin as he massaged the opposite butt cheek to the one he smacked. “Should I forgive you though?”  
  


“That's up to you, Master.” I near whispered, my entire body on high alert as his feather light kisses sent shivers down my spine.  
  


I moaned as he bit down on my neck, hands curling into fists as I felt myself peak up. I wanted nothing more than to reach back and pull him closer, begging him to forgive me, to fuck me again like he did the night before instead of... whatever he was planning. But instead I just leaned back into his broad form, letting him suck another mark into my skin.  
  


Pressing an almost chaste kiss to the side of my head, Pitch released my hair, his hands back on my hips. I could feel him, half hard, through his thin pajama pants against my lower back. “Focus Jack. If you can pick my favorite impact tool for your punishment, I will forgive you. If not, well...” Nails scraped my hip bones, and I could hear his excitement in his voice.  
  


Opening my eyes slowly, I scanned the racks in front of me. There were so many options to choose from, and I didn't know if he would count if I chose the right type of tool but was wrong on which specific one. Taking a breath, I tried to focus on which looked right in his hand, which felt like it belonged the most compared to the others, based on what little I knew of him  
  


After a tense moment, I spoke. “I think I have my guess, Master.”  
  


“Go ahead.” He egged. “Hand it to me.”  
  


Heart in my throat, I carefully lifted a crop from the hook it was hanging on. It was a matte black leather piece with a simple gold band where the handle met the shaft, and the leather tongue was on the thinner side compared to some of the others. It was simple yet elegant, much like Pitch himself.  
  


Turning on my heel, I held the crop in two hand, offering it up to my Master, my eyes focused on the ground. After a second I felt him lift the tool from my hand, and the end slipped under my chin to tilt my head to face him.  
  


“Well, aren't you smart, Jack?”  
  


Feeling the crop flick against my thigh, I whined, but he ignored me. “Lay your torso across the bed, ass facing me.” As I scrambled to obey him he kept on talking. “I am going to give you as many hits as I feel necessary, and you will take them, knowing that this is a deserved punishment for an infraction. You may cry or whine or call out, but you will not squirm or try to get away because you, like I, know that you earned this punishment. Am I clear?”  
  


“Yes Master.” I said, as I rested my head on my arms, hear thumping against my ribcage.  
  


The first hit landed square in the center of my already reddened butt cheek and I groaned, realizing as I rocked forward, that the erection I had forgotten about was now trapped between my body and the bed, not having dissipated thanks to, what I was assuming, was Pitch's own.  
  


My eyes screwed closed as three more hits landed in quick succession, one on top of the other, and I breathed out heavily. “Good.” Pitch breathed. A light hand caressed the abused flesh, as I flinched, the touch unexpected. “You mark well. Such a beautiful color against your skin.”  
  


“Thank you Ma--” I started, but was cut short by five more lashes, spread across my ass. Tears sprung to the corners of my eyes, as I was hit again, this one harder than the last few, causing me to rock against the bed, and moan at the friction.  
  


Another few flicks of the crop left my legs shaking and me whining and gasping. A thin line trailed down my back as Pitch stroked me with the crop. The light touch went straight to my member and I whined and cried out. “Master, please!”  
  


He clucked his tongue, delivering another lick to my backside. “Not yet, my dear Jack. First off, what have we learned.”  
  


“I-I promise to always ask for the rules instead of assuming or acting first Master, a-and I promise not to stare at you while you are working and I promise t-that I'll make sure to think about all the options before I speak when you ask me a question, just please!”  
  


“Covering your bases aren't you?” Pitch chuckled. A hand caressed the marks on my backside, as he leaned against the bed next to me, pinching slightly at the reddened flesh. “And do you think you've gotten a good enough punishment for what you have done?”  
  


“Only, if you think so, Master.” I breathed, though in my head I was screaming for him to say yes. My ass felt as if it was on fire, and I felt so hard I could burst. I didn't know what else he wanted from me other than to break completely.  
  


There was a second as he considered, massaging the sore spots in my skin so I groaned. “You did well, Jack.” He said finally, laying a kiss to the back of my head.  
  


Relief washed over me as tension left my body when he said that. “Thank you Master, I'm so sorry Master. I'll be better I promise.”  
  


“Do you want to prove that?” Pitch asked, lifting my head to look me in the eyes. I could see the grin planted across his face.  
  


“Of course Master.” I said, quickly. “ I'll do anything I promise.”

“Good.” He replied. “Kneel before me.”  
  


“Yes Master.” Slowly I got up, wincing as the movement caused a fresh wash of pain go through my body, as I very carefully settled on my knees in front of him. As I got situated, I realized exactly what he wanted.  
  


“You see, Jack, I have some very important calls I have to make, and you seem to have... Distracted me. It's only fair that you take care of that, isn't it?”  
  


Nodding, I repeated “Yes Master.” Pulling his erection out of the slit in his pajama pants, I wrapped my fist around it, pumping up and down as a sliver of precum escaped the tip.  
  


Burying his hand in my hair again, Pitch gripped at it in warning. “Now, now Jack.”  
  


“I'm sorry Master.” Tentatively, I licked the milky drop from his slit, tasting the saltiness before taking the tip in my mouth and bobbing up and down slightly. A sigh escaped Pitch's mouth, though the hand in my hair tightened as I caught my tongue just under the tip, making him gasp.  
  


Arousal bloomed more fully in my abdomen at that, and I took him in deeper, flattening my tongue and tracing the veins on his erection as I came back up. Moaning slightly I repeated the motion as I felt Pitch buck slightly underneath me, his breaths becoming more shallow and erratic.  
  


Pulling off, I licked a stripe from the base of his balls to the tip before taking him in my mouth again, this time allowing his dick to hit the back of my throat. An almost guttural growl came from pitch as his ankles hooked around me, pulling me closer as he thrust up into my mouth.  
  


I let him take control, using my face as he fucked himself into my mouth, I could feel the pressure rising and I buried my hands in the blankets on either side of his knees, whining as my own body reached it's peak.  
  


Before I knew it, he was spilling into my mouth, and I swallowed around him, not daring to make another mistake. Chest heaving, he kissed the top of my head, muttering something I could not make out.  
  


I stayed kneeling, heels digging into the tender flesh of my backside, member still stiff as I waited, breathing in and out through my nose. He hadn't told me to cum, and for some reason my arousal hadn't gone away when his did. I dared not move, torn between whether the pain or pleasure was worse.  
  


“Lie down, Jack.” Pitch finally said, and I scrambled upwards to obey him, hoping he'd give me release. But instead he got up and moved back to his library as I rested on my side.  
  


Returning to me with a goblet of water and some leftover fruit from our midday snack, he set them on the bedside table. “You may not cum while I am gone, but I expect you to drink and eat all of this, understand?”  
  


“Yes Master” I said, thoroughly confused.  
  


“Good.” And then he was off as if nothing happened, busying himself with getting dressed and ready while I watched, nibbling on the sweet cubes and trying to ignore the ache of my arousal.  
  


Donning his suit jacket, he glanced back at me for a half second, an oddly soft look on his face, before leaving without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we just take a moment to appreciate how good Pitch would look with a riding crop in his hand... >.>
> 
> Also soon... Plot.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh, at long last my little pet project is seeing the light of day! I love my sci-fi universe, and I feel like this power dynamic fits these two so well! I can't wait to show you what I have in store for this fic!!!!!
> 
> Please do let me know if you have any questions about the universe (I could seriously talk about it for daysssss). I tried to add in as much info as I could, but you never know what little things I could have missed. ^^;;


End file.
